


In Over Your Head

by Proudmoore



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Fluff, Gender Neutral, Other, Reader Insert, lifeguard AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:51:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudmoore/pseuds/Proudmoore
Summary: Lifeguard AU.  You can't help falling for the handsome man you've watched swim laps around the pool for some time, and it appears that he's got his eye on you, too.





	In Over Your Head

You smile inwardly as you stroll along the platform separating the two Olympic sized swimming pools in the middle of the city’s premier aquatic complex.  He’s here again; the handsome stranger you’ve been watching swim for nearly a year. You’re mesmerized by the way the light catches the droplets of water that cling to his skin every time he comes up for a breath of air, the way his muscles move beneath the skin and sinew that covers them, by the gorgeous hazel eyes you know are hiding behind the reflective goggles he’s wearing.  You’re so intent on watching him that it’s a chore to have to pull your gaze away to check all the corners of the pool with every length you walk along the platform. Even though he’s the only one in the facility at the moment however, you know you have a job to do.  
  
The sound of the water splashing with his every stroke becomes hypnotic as the minutes pass and time seems to go by even more slowly for a while.  You hope for a distraction but find none; the pool is still completely deserted aside from him.  Glancing at your watch briefly, you sigh and shake your head: only three more hours to go until the end of your shift.  
  
Another several long minutes pass before the sound of a splash shakes you out of your reverie and you glance over just in time to watch the handsome stranger climb up the ladder near the far end of the pool.  Guarding protocols be damned, you find yourself walking swiftly across the deck and over to where he’s plucking his towel up off of a nearby bench.  Placing yourself so you can see all entrances to the pool area in case anyone else suddenly graces you with their presence and you have to get back to work, you casually hook your thumbs in the waistband of your shorts.  
  
“Enjoy your swim?”  You ask, hoping your tone sounds more casual to his ears than it does to your own.

He smiles as he runs the towel over his hair, leaving it sticking up in places as he turns to look at you.  
  
“Are you kidding?”  He says.  “There’s no one around, it’s like having my own pool with my own personal lifeguard.”  
  
He winks and picks up his water bottle, taking a long draught as you feel your face heat at his words.  
  
“Not that you’ll need saving any time soon,” you say with an inward grimace, sure you’re going to derail the conversation in some awkward way very soon if you don’t make an escape.  “I’ve been watching you swim for months; you’re a natural.”  
  
_There it is._  
  
You’ve just admitted to staring at the guy every time he’s been there and you’re sure he’s about to give you a look, but instead he laughs and shakes his head.  
  
“Nothing natural about it, I’ve been swimming my whole life,” he explains.  
  
“I’d love to hear more about that some time,” you say softly.  
  
_Stop it!_  
  
“I’d like that,” he says warmly, picking up his towel again and angling his body toward the changerooms.  “I’ve got to run, I’ve got a shift starting in half an hour, but I’ll hold you to it.  I’ll catch you next time…”  
  
“Jules,” you say somewhat breathily, your mind racing at the implications of your somehow impossibly successful flirting.  
  
“Jules,” he repeats, holding out a hand to shake yours.  “Until then.”  
  
You nod in response and reach out, returning the handshake, feeling a flutter in your chest at the warmth and firmness of his grip.  
  
“Until then,” you echo, letting go once more.  
  
He leaves the pool deck with one last wink and any memory you may have had of his grasp dissolves away as the cacophony of children’s laughter bounces off of the walls around you and you realize a group of moms and tots has entered the kiddie pool across the way.  Sighing inwardly, feeling robbed of the joy you felt in the immediate wake of his touch, you turn on your heel, pick up a flutter board just in case, and make your way over to where the action is. Your eyes stay on the kids for the remainder of your shift, but your heart and mind are somewhere else entirely.

* * *

A few days later, you’re seated in the front row of a small number of tables and chairs in one of the complex’s fitness classrooms.  You and about a third of the rest of the complex’s staff – about fifteen people – are awaiting the start of your annual first aid and CPR recertification course. Rumor has it the complex has invited a trauma surgeon to present the course this year as part of a new initiative that helps teach not only the basics, but more about how the actions of first responders affect long-term patient outcomes in hopes that a smoother, more efficient first response plan can be drafted and initiated to encourage better patient prognoses.    
  
You’re just taking a swig from your water bottle a moment later when you hear the door to the classroom open.  Glancing over, you watch your supervisor walk in followed closely by someone familiar looking.  It takes you a second, but you realize the man is the one you’ve been watching swim for the longest time.  He looks even more handsome dry and dressed in a well-tailored black suit and blue button-down shirt.  As he sets down his brief case and glances at all of the supplies gathered around him for teaching, your supervisor calls the room to order.  
  
“Thank you all for coming out,” she says brightly.  “Now, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to Dr. Leonard McCoy, chief of surgery at Northside General.  Please give him your undivided attention, ask questions, and make the most of these next few hours.”  
  
You heard her words, but stopped paying attention after she had introduced him.  You got too busy staring at him wide-eyed and acutely focused.  
  
_Chief of surgery?!_  
  
You’re too busy being amazed at the fact that someone in as prestigious a position as his would give you the time of day and take you up on your offer of coffee some time to realize that your supervisor has left and Dr. McCoy has started his lecture.  When your thoughts finally catch up to the present, you frantically scramble to pull out your notepad and pen, nearly flinging the entire set up off of the table.  Chewing the inside of your lip from the embarrassment, you slowly and quietly slide down in your seat a bit and start jotting things down.  
  
After nearly an hour of lecture which you’re finding both fascinating and a little bit over your head, Dr. McCoy breaks off the talking and starts talking about some of the basic skills of first aid and CPR – the ABCs.  
  
“Now, I’d like you all to break off into pairs,” he instructs.  “I see we’ve got an odd number in the room, which actually works to our advantage.  I’ll need someone up here to help me demonstrate some of these skills anyway.”  
  
You try your best to disappear from view as he glances down at you and you whip your head from side to side, looking for a partner.  It’s to no avail – you’re the only one sitting in the very front row.  
  
“Jules,” he says brightly.  “Would you be so kind as to assist me?”  
  
Biting back an impulsive no, you give him a quick nod and get to your feet, smoothing down your employer-issued shorts and t-shirt.  Making your way to the front of the room, you take a seat up on the table in front of him so you’re clearly visible to the others in the room and promptly proceed to tuning him out in favor of focusing on not fidgeting uncomfortably instead.  
  
You try to ignore your coworkers’ eyes flickering between you and him, but you’ve never particularly enjoyed being up in front of people, let alone when you’re already flustered by the attractive man hovering over you.  You aren’t left to space out for long, though, as suddenly you feel Dr. McCoy’s hand land on your shoulder and you’re startled out of your thinking.  
  
“Sorry,” he says with an apologetic expression. “Now, your only job is to relax while I go over some assessment skills.”  
  
You nod to give him the go-ahead and with that, the next couple of hours pass by in a flash.  Your anxiety melts away as the group breaks off into pairs to practice some of the skills Dr. McCoy has explained and you’re left alone with the man himself.  Despite the fact that he’s got years of knowledge and experience on you, he never once stops to criticize your work as you practice your splinting and bandaging skills, though you’re acutely aware of the way he’s watching you work throughout.  
  
The rest of the class goes by in a blur and you have mixed feelings about it as you’re taking your test at the end.  On the one hand, you’re glad it’s over for another year, but on the other hand Dr. McCoy hasn’t given you any indication that he’s ready to take you up on that chat you’d discussed the other day at the poolside.  You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even realize you’re the last one left writing and as you glance around and find only Dr. McCoy left in the room with you, you quickly fill in the last few bubbles on your answer sheet and all but throw the exam booklet on the table in front of him before disappearing.  
  
_Well now you’ve blown it._  
  
You consider going back as you stride toward the staff lockers but you’re too nervous about the sort of impression you’ve just made to actually do it.  Instead, you hurriedly pack your things together and escape out the building’s side door, not wanting to chance running into the doctor again so soon.

* * *

Another two days later, just when you’ve finally put thoughts of him out of your mind, the sound of feet plip-plapping on the wet tile of the pool deck gets your attention.  You glance over your shoulder from where you’re making your rounds and meet Dr. McCoy’s gaze across the lanes separating the two of you.   
  
Whipping your head back around to face forward, you curse inwardly and take a deep, steadying breath.  You don’t have any choice but to face him and so you steel yourself, turning on your heel and marching across the deck towards him.  He smiles as you approach and his expression is soft.  
  
“Sorry I pulled a disappearing act the other day,” you offer before he can say anything.  
  
He shrugs.  
  
“I figured you had somewhere to be,” he says lightly.  “But I was a little upset that we didn’t get the chance to plan that date we’d talked about last time.”  
  
Your brain short circuits a bit as you realize that he’s still interested in you and it takes you a moment to think of a way to respond.  
  
“Sorry,” you murmur.  “I just… got a little intimidated by you.”  
  
He laughs softly.  
  
“Darlin’, I don’t have an intimidating bone in my body,” he assures you.  “Let me prove it to you.  What time are you off?”  
  
You swallow thickly, your mind still buzzing, his hypnotic hazel eyes not making it any easier to concentrate as you look into them.  
  
“Seven,” you reply.  
  
“Great,” he says.  “That gives me plenty of time to get a few laps in and shower. Are you free for coffee after work?”  
  
You nod mutely, feeling a prickle of excitement set all of your nerve endings alight.  Dr. McCoy smiles at your agreement and shifts from foot to foot, kicking off his flip flops and gesturing to the water.  
  
“I’ll meet you at the front desk after your shift,” he says warmly.  “Unless I require your services sooner.”  
  
You chuckle and roll your eyes, waving your flutter board at the pool to encourage him wordlessly to get a move on; his well-toned bare chest is beginning to get  _really_  distracting.  
  
“You’d better not,” you admonish playfully as you turn to go back to your rounds.  “Stay out of trouble.”  
  
The words no sooner leave your lips than you see a flail of limbs in the periphery of your vision and a startled yell reaches your ears.  You pivot back to face him just in time to see him hit the deck, landing sprawled out on his back.  Jumping forward, you kneel at his side and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Don’t move!”  You say on instinct.  
  
He groans in pain but then smiles wryly, looking over at you.  
  
“I’m fine, sugar, I didn’t hit my head,” he assures you, lifting his right arm to reveal a small pool of blood beneath it. “Just banged myself up a little. Looks like you jinxed me.”  
  
Your eyes widen a little in horror and he reaches out to put a hand on your arm to reassure you.  
  
“I’m kidding,” he says quickly.  “Just bad luck is all.  No harm done.”  
  
“Still, we should get you seen to,” you insist.  
  
“Looks like you’re going to get to put those skills to the test after all,” he says with a wink.  
  
You try to hide the dread you feel at having to patch up a  _trauma surgeon_ with exponentially more experience than you and nod, holding out a hand to help him up.  As you support him while he gets to his feet, you wave at the other guards to let them know you’ll be off deck for a little while.  Helping him along to ensure he doesn’t slip again, you lead him to the first aid room and seat him on the stretcher while you get together some supplies.  Once you have your gloves on and your paraphernalia assembled, you turn to face him with a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze. He’s already got his arm bent to expose the scrape on his elbow and you look up at him apologetically.  
  
“This might sting a bit, Doctor,” you say stiffly, rolling the title around in your head.  
  
“It’s Leonard,” he says gently.  “Or Len, if you like.”  
  
“Len,” you say softly.  “Rolls off the tongue nicely.”  
  
You carefully dab at his wound with the antiseptic and he doesn’t so much as flinch.  You can feel his gaze on you and your face is burning.  Keeping your own eyes cast downward, you finish up with the cleaning and apply an antibiotic ointment before neatly securing a dressing into place with a pristine stretch of cling gauze.  Once you finish, you take off your gloves and dispose of them, offering Leonard a smile.  
  
“And this is the part where I give you the mandatory  _follow up with your doctor to ensure it doesn’t get infected_  advice,” you say.  “But I’ve got the feeling you’ve got an even better handle on all of this than I do.”  
  
“It’s nice to sit back and let someone else take the reins sometimes, though,” Leonard says warmly.  “Besides, you did a great job.  Couldn’t have done it better myself.”  
  
“Only because it’s your dominant arm that’s injured,” you mutter quietly.  
  
“Nonsense,” he assures you.  “There is one more thing you could do, though, to perfect your technique in this case.”  
  
“What’s that?”  You ask, heart hammering behind your ribs as you worry that you’ve made some kind of terrible mistake.  
  
You glance up as you feel him leaning in closer to you, feeling the heat radiating from his skin at your proximity.  
  
“If it’s not too much trouble, it might help to kiss it better,” he whispers, his eyes traveling down from yours, lingering on your lips.  
  
You can hear your heartbeat echoing so clearly in your ears that you’re sure he can hear it too.  Swallowing thickly, your breath coming short, you lick your lips and nod.  It’s all the consent he needs and within a second, he’s closing the gap between the two of you.    
  
His lips are soft, gentle and tentative against yours at first, giving you the chance to pull away if you change your mind, but the way his hands land on your hips, stroking there lightly, you find yourself being consumed.  You press closer, adding a little bit of passion to the kiss, and every nerve ending in your body catches fire.  Your breathing is ragged and you feel dizzy as the kiss lasts for several long moments, but as the two of you pull apart you find it’s way too soon.  You miss the contact immediately.  
  
“Better?”  You ask breathily, licking your lips as you slowly open your eyes.  
  
“Much,” he replies, his hands still on your hips, thumbs still gently caressing your skin through your shirt.  
  
Glancing over at the clock on the wall behind him, you gasp as you realize you’ve spent more time in the first aid room than you’d thought.  Your shift is over in half an hour.  
  
“You ought to shower up,” you tell him, stepping aside so he can hop off of the stretcher.  “Assuming we’re still on for coffee, that is.”  
  
He stands and steps closer to you, reaching up to cup your cheek, gently caressing your face for a brief moment before sidestepping you and heading towards the door.  
  
“Darlin’, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.  
  
You reach up, burying your face in your hands, biting you lip and letting out a small noise of excitement.  You feel like a teenager who has just experienced their first kiss.  In a rush, you clean up after yourself and change the sheet on the stretcher before dashing out of the first aid room to finish a few last laps around the pool deck.  
  
As you finish up and clock out, you change hurriedly into your street clothes and take a deep breath to steel yourself before heading out to meet Leonard.  When you meet his gaze across the space between the two of you in the complex’s lobby, you swear the smile on his face is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen, and as he holds out an arm for you to take, you send up a silent blessing for having found the courage to finally say hello to him.


End file.
